"You don't know that. I worked for a week and went to and from my apartment and I was fine." I'm arguing a point on validity, not because I don’t believe him. I'm a fucking scaredy cat when it comes right down to it. I'd be pissing myself if I had to leave this place, but if it means getting away from how he thinks he gets to decide my life for me, I'll risk it.
"Yes I do know that." He stalks around the end of the bed and locks the door. "Now go take a shower because you stink like alcohol and sex."
My face burns with embarrassment. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." He walks over to his closet and pulls out a towel. "You smell like you've been marinating in vodka for hours and you've still got my cum dried on your thighs. So go shower and then we'll continue this conversation."
He's right about both things and the humiliation makes me want to die. I never even got out of bed after he fucked me. I lay there stewing in his juices while I drank myself to sleep.
I grab the towel from his hands and storm into the bathroom without another word. The door slams behind me and I hear him grumble something that pisses me off more. What right does he have to make choices for me? And especially ones that limit my God-given rights. And then insult me on top of that?
My blood is boiling.
I turn on the shower as hot as it'll go and strip off my clothes. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror I understand why he told me to shower. My hair's a mess; my makeup's smeared. And there are bruises on my hips from where his hands gripped me. I look exactly like someone who drank too much and had rough sex before passing out.
The hot water feels good on my sore muscles and I stand under the spray longer than necessary trying to formulate a plan. I'll shower like he said. Then I'll get dressed and tell him I'm leaving. I'll explain that I need to go to Ukraine where I'll be safe with my family. He can't physically stop me from walking out that door.
Except he probably can. And he probably will. And the man is stronger than me in so many ways. It almost brings tears to my eyes, but I have to try it.
Leaving St Petersburg is my only option now. I have to think of what might happen in the long run. There's no way he can promise I'll be safe, even if I do listen to him. They're his enemies. They could kill him as easily as they could kill me. A bullet doesn't discriminate. He's insane if he thinks I’m just going to take this lying down.
I wash my hair twice and scrub my skin until it's pink before finally turning off the water. The towel he gave me is huge and soft, and I wrap it around myself before wiping the steam off the mirror. I look slightly more human now, but the fear is still evident in my eyes.
When I open the bathroom door, Dimitri's sitting on the bed, still shirtless and scrolling through his phone. He glances up when I walk out.
"Better?" he asks as he sets his phone aside. He's calmer now, looking more like the compassionate man I let ravage me earlier, but it doesn't sway my decision. I have to leave.
"Yes." I clutch the towel tighter. "Now I need to get dressed so we can talk about my leaving."
"You're not leaving." Dimitri pats the bed beside him. "Come here." When his hand extends toward me and his finger wiggles, beckoning me, I almost lose my nerve. I really do feel safe with him. I just hate how he wants to boss me around.
"I need clothes first." I don't move from my spot near the bathroom door because I'm afraid I'm just gonna break down and start doing what he says.
"You don't need clothes to lie down." He pats the bed again. "Come here, Tatiana." This time when he says it, it's more commanding. He is trying to order me like a fucking dog, and it reminds me why I feel the need to go back home to Ukraine. I can find my cousin wherever the fuck he is in this city, and we can both go home.
"I'm not tired," I grumble, because I’m not. "I just woke up." I mean sure, I could sleep some more, but I've been sleeping for sixteen hours already. That's plenty of rest. Besides, whoever's watching me won't think I'll sneak out of here at three in the morning headed to the bus station.
"You passed out drunk. That's not the same as actually sleeping." He stands and walks toward me. "Now stop arguing and get in the bed."
"No," I protest as I take a step back. "I'm not getting in your bed. I'm getting dressed and we're having a conversation about my leaving."
"Get in the bed now." He's close enough now that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. "Or I'll make you."
"You're not listening to me." Frustration makes my voice crack. "I don't want to stay here. I want to go home to my family where I'll be safe."
"You won't be safe anywhere except here." Dimitri's voice calms again and his hands settle on my shoulders. "I know you don't want to hear that, but it's the truth, Tatiana. You can't go out there alone."
"Then send someone with me." I'm grasping at straws now and I sound like a whiny brat.
"No," he says bluntly. "Get in bed, Tatiana."
He guides me toward the mattress, and I'm too tired to keep fighting. I sit down on the edge still clutching my towel, and he pulls back the covers on the other side before climbing in. Then he reaches over and tugs me down until I'm lying beside him with my head on his chest.
"I'm not tired," I repeat even though I know the minute I close my eyes, I'll feel sleepy.
"Yes, you are." His arm wraps around me, holding me in place. "Just sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."
"I don't want to talk in the morning." I try to push away, but his grip tightens. "I want to leave now."
